The Anarchy
by ElphabaTheDelirious117
Summary: Dorothy fails to kill Elphaba and goes home with the aid of the slippers. The Wizard sails home in his balloon, and Glinda's left in charge. But what happens when someone doesn't like the current leader? Bookmusicalverse.
1. Dorothy's Failure

**A/N: I am so sorry, sorry, sorry for forgetting this. I just couldn't't think of any more things, so I stopped it. Along with my other stories. I was also far too busy with schoolwork. I've decided to put it up, chapter by chapter, with changes because I found there were several things missing. Please review.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own it, don't sue me. The excerpt in the beginning isn't mine either, it's from Idina Menzel's _Still I Can't Be Still_. I thought it sort of fit with the chapter.**

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_**The insatiable peace**_

_**my quest for true serenity**_

_**no matter how hard the rain, **_

_**the thirst is**_

_**the thirst is never ending**_

_**no matter how many friends**_

_**or angels been sent down **_

_**to take me away**_

_**they can't make it okay.**_

**As the girl asked for forgiveness, **the thing I never got, I furiously lighted my broom and held it over her like a sword, ready to strike. I knew I wouldn't be living for a long time, now that everyone in Oz was after me. I had been shunned and hated since my unfortunate birth, and the people hadn't changed, so why should I accommodate them? Why shouldn't I kill the girl? As I raised the broom higher, my fury rising as well, the lit end of the wretched stick caught my skirt and set it on fire. Dorothy, in what I took to be a pathetic attempt at sucking up to me, flung the bucket at me with the words,

"I will save you!"

It happened all so fast, I barely had time to register what was going on. The water drenched me, putting out the fire blazing on my skirt and hungrily reaching for my legs. I fell to the ground and cried out in protest, but it was no use. I just sat there, looking at the girl, my expression blank. I'd assumed I'd be dead by now, what with the water and all, but all I felt was cold, annoyed, angry, and mostly, shocked. Having avoided water instinctively my entire life, I had never known what it felt like. I hadn't wanted to know what it felt like. But right now, I saw that somehow, I had been wrong. It felt refreshing, like all my worries were being washed away by that cool splash of liquid. However, my relieved realization faded away at my anger at the girl, who was still there. While I was being called wicked, she was being taken for a harmless little angel. Didn't they see what she was? Everything that came in her way, my sister, my pets--and if the water had worked, it would have been me, too--perished, or was murdered. _I _haven't killed that many people, though I've tried. It was all too puzzling and angering. With a strangled, guttural yell, I lifted the broom higher, over her whimpering head, ready to kill, to finish her once and for all . . .

Then I stopped. I don't know what made me do it, but I just froze in mid-air. With a defeated sigh, I lowered the broom and threw it into the wet bucket, putting out the fire dancing on its bristles. So much for not doing any more good deeds. My common sense told me, 'What are you doing? She killed your sister! You might as well avenge Nessa's death!' But apparently, my common sense had passed away. I looked at the girl, who was still cowering in a corner. Dorothy raised her tear-streaked face up to look at me, and I could tell she was beyond relieved. Slowly, carefully, so I wouldn't lose my nerve, I spoke to her.

"You must go. It isn't safe for you here any more than it is for me." I sighed. "I don't care if you give me the shoes or not, they're just shoes. Hit them together, or smack them against a wall or something, perhaps they're still magic. Maybe that will bring you home." I had to resist the urge to add that maybe, just maybe, if she smacked them against her head, they would give her some of the brains she so desperately needed. Admitting the shoes were nothing special I did with great difficulty, but I realized that they really were _just shoes_, even if they had a sentimental meaning. Remembering my sister wouldn't bring her back any more than...other certain people.

"Oh, thank you!" Dorothy exclaimed, hugging me. I was so unused to hugs, I instinctively pushed her away. "Aunt Em and Uncle Henry will be so happy! They must have been worried--"

"Just go, won't you!" I said, unwanted tears welling up in my eyes. Apparently, the mention of someone's family loving them in the very least seems to make my eyes all excited. I loathe my tear ducts. With a last, thankful goodbye, Dorothy ran out of the room and down the stairs. I could hear her stomping all the way down to the bottom floor. I walked down the steps and stood there, solemnly watching her kicking and snapping and clicking different parts of her shoes together, clutching a protesting dog in her arms. The toes, the middle, the bottom, the top, and then, the heels. As soon as both heels came together, she disappeared, but without any Wizomania-like special effects, which would have been completely unnecessary. I wasn't shocked, because somehow, I had expected the shoes to be more magical than I had assumed. I had learned to expect surprises and disappointments in my life as a child, and I still had the useful skill. Sighing, I went and unlocked the kitchen, where the Lion, Nanny and Liir were attempting to break down the door. The Lion had rushed the door, and just as I opened it, he toppled out, bemused.

"Hey . . .you're the Witch! Why aren't you dead?" He demanded, rubbing his bottom.

"Hello to you, too." I said, not minding him. It's almost funny how the little cub I had helped in my younger years came back to kill me. But my life's funny that way. I turned to Liir and Nanny, who were looking at me as though I was a green ghost. "The farm girl's not here anymore."

"What did you do to Dorothy?" Liir asked, stepping forward, and showing more bravery than I thought possible for him.

"I just sent her home, you dolt." I snapped back, and whirled around. I stomped towards the room where I had left my broom, and picked it up. It was so very burnt, but not too burnt for me to ride it. I wasn't needed here, and I knew it. Liir would be sulking for ages due to the departure of his _one true love_, and Nanny would be too old to remember where she was in a couple of months; there would be no need for me, and I doubted if there ever had been. I had taught Chistery well, so he would take care of them. I trudged back to the kitchen and addressed the duo, who were still standing where I had left them. "As I'm not needed here, in my own home--and obviously not welcome, either--" I said, shooting Liir a look. He continued to glare at me angrily. Maybe he could spare some of his courage for the Lion's uses. "I'm leaving. I've had enough of this, and you've all certainly had enough of me. Since I'm not dead, which I assume is _quite _the tragedy for you all, I might as well let people know. Perhaps I'll get somewhere."

"Bye then! We don't need you anyway!" Liir exclaimed, somewhat half-heartedly, and I had to agree. No one needed me anymore. No one except--possibly--a good friend I had, and who I'd forgiven, despite myself, for her betrayal. _Or used to have, if she's angry at me for some reason or other_, I thought.

"My thoughts exactly." I declared. I ambled out of the kitchen, and Nanny and Liir followed, leaving the Lion there to lick his honorable battle wounds.

"Bye, Elphie." Said Nanny, who had been watching solemnly the whole time, and I nodded to her. I got on my broom and sailed out of the window, stopping just in front of it. I spoke loudly enough for Nanny and Liir to hear, just them.

"So if you care to find me . . . look to the Emerald City." I said, and Liir waved, a little wave. A reluctant wave that I didn't care for. They didn't need me, and I didn't need them. I had things to do, a person to see. I put on my hood so my green skin wouldn't stand out in the night sky.

I was going to see my old friend.

I was going to Glinda.

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**A/N: I won't know whether or not you like it if you don't review, so please do!**


	2. Glinda

**A/N: Chapter two is up! Hurray! Thank you to everyone who reviewed, it made me so happy to see I got more than one. If you review this chapter too, I'll be even happier.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, not one bit of it.**

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**As I sailed over **the land, the wind rushing by my ears and roaring in my head despite the hood pulled tight over my head. I couldn't help noticing the celebrating Ozians scattered in groups throughout the city. I knew what they were celebrating: my so-called death. What an unpleasant shock they would get when they realized I wasn't dead at all. But that had to wait, because there was someone I needed to see.

Glinda's residence was easy to find, as it had the words 'GLINDA THE GOOD' engraved on the gleaming emerald front door. Part of the magic of the Emerald City was that it was the only place in Oz where I could literally blend in. I looked around to see if anyone was protecting Glinda's door, but thankfully, there was no guard; I wanted to get in there without a struggle, so as not to draw the attention to the innocent passers-by who were celebrating my death. Surely, if they saw me, they would alert the palace guards, and I would never get around to seeing Glinda. There was a window on the roof, which I landed on with a barely audible _plonk_. No one noticed me, in the midst of all the celebration. I carefully opened the green glass and jumped in, broom in hand, landing in a heap on the ground. The marble floor didn't help cushion my fall at all, and since it was hard to land properly while cradling a broom, I assume I made myself a few dozen bruises right there. I huffed irritatedly at my sudden lack of logic. Why couldn't I have just flown in? It would have made the landing that much less painful, I got up, wincing slightly, and trudged down the hallway. It was all very green, and it hurt my eyes a bit with its neon, glaring walls, all emerald. I guessed that was how everyone felt when they looked at me. Maybe if I had died, I would have spared them the pain. It was all too bad for them that I had stopped being a people-pleaser too long ago to remember what it's like.

I heard the sound of slightly hysterical crying from a nearby room and entered silently, so I wouldn't be noticed if it wasn't who I was looking for in there, bawling their eyes out. But I doubt anyone but her would be crying when I had died. But it was her, her blonde locks tangled and her tear-strained face looking at the vanity mirror on her dresser. I gasped deliberately, and she looked up quickly. A large, slightly confused smile spread on her face, and her elegant eyebrows rose.

"Elphie!" She exclaimed, running up to me and hugging me, and I returned the hug. I felt something squeezing my face and soon realized that it was a smile, something I hadn't felt in the longest time. I really had missed her, and if Fiyero had let me tell her, I would have. She must have been extremely depressed, but I didn't get my hopes up. She very well might not have been crying over me. "You're not dead!"

"Well, now, that's just nonsense. You didn't think about that at all. I could be very much dead right now. This could just be my ghost you're hugging." I said, and Glinda let out a slightly forced laugh, and gave me another bone-crushing hug.

"Oh, Elphie, I am so happy you're alive!"

"I wish I could say the same just as truthfully," I said under my breath, wondering what I could have possible done to deserve continuing to live. There was no point anymore; one person in Oz didn't hate me enough to want to kill me. If I had died, I might have really rested in peace, and I needed that. I had even managed to screw up my death, but that was expected of me. Nothing in my life had done the way I had wanted it to, and I didn't expect it to start now.

Squirming out of Glinda's hold, I sat down on the bed, covered with an ornate, predictably pink bedspread. In a desperate attempt to spark a conversation, I had to pick the most obvious thing to say. "I see you've been getting along well with the rest of Oz."

"Yes! Of course!" Glinda exclaimed, her voice a little too high to be convincingly happy. She plastered a wid smile on her rosy face. She was so beautiful, even when she was depressed. I wondered what could possible be wrong with Glinda the Good's life, of all people, but decided to question her later. This was the first time I had seen my only friend in twenty years; the interrogation would have to wait. I was about to congratulate her, forcing a fake smile, but she broke down crying and hugged me. We sat on the bed like that for a while, her sniffling into my cloak; I was wondering what I could possibly say. Being myself, I couldn't help being a little suspicious that she would call the guards like the last time we had met; I sat there pondering the possibility so seriously that I didn't even notice that I was able to breathe. Glinda had let go of me and was staring at me from her place on the bed. When I looked at her, she spoke. "Oh, Elphie, you've got to help me. The Wizard won't listen to me when I told him to leave Oz, because he thinks you're dead and he's not scared of me like he was of you." At this my eyes widened considerably. I must have looked like an Owl. A green Owl, if those even exist. But then again, before I was born, no one thought green people existed.

"He was scared of me? He certainly didn't show it." I said, recalling the faint hope I had in my relatively whole heart when I had left the Emerald City, many years ago. I had hoped that the Wizard was scared of me, that he would back down and free the Animals without a struggle. How different everything had turned out. I pondered all that had happened, and that day's first logical thought popped into my head. "That's probably why he sent Dorothy to kill me, and he didn't come himself." I said, and Glinda nodded vigorously to show it was most likely the truth. It seemed we were both lost for words for the moment, but she soon managed to choke out,

"That's exactly why! Wait...how did you survive?" This question almost made me laugh, the closest I had to it in years. It turns out everyone had believed the rumor of my "allergy", even me. This made me question why I had survived, if I had avoided water for so long. It was a while before I replied. I realized I had been thinking too much lately.

"Well, it turns out I'm not allergic to water, isn't that shocking?" I guessed she would have been more surprised if she hadn't heard it from me, but a trace of shock was still visible on her face. It soon faded away, to be replaced by sadness.

"Oh, Elphie, I don't know what to do. The Wizard, he's...he's...oh, Elphie!"

"What's he doing now?" I asked, resisting the temptation to make a sarcastic comment; I highly doubt it would be appreciated, especially at a time like this. Anyway, I was interested to find out what the Wizard could be doing to cause her to stutter so. This was not at all like Glinda, the paragon of happiness, or so I had heard. Anyway, I had always hated the Wizard, ever since our first meeting when he had decieved me without any guilt whatsoever. It makes me want to retch when I think of the time before that, when I had wanted to team up with him and be worshipped like he was--is. Now, everyone, except for Glinda 'the Good' of all people, loathes me. Who would've thought? The Wicked Witch of the West and Glinda the Good--friends? That's something no one could guess, which is why it's so ingenious. They would probably burn both of us at the stake if they found out how we were such good friends. I was abruptly torn out of my thoughts when I realized Glinda was speaking.

"...a little puppet that he can manipulate into doing his bidding, or else he'd kill me, or just have those horrible people Southstairs do that. He must be too afraid too murder 'Glinda the Good', his reputation will be ruined." She hiccuped, and I felt a wave of pity crash over me. This day was getting more surprising by the minute. I thought Glinda had gotten everything she wanted, but it seemed like it had crashed down around her, just like my dreams had. We were more alike than I thought.

"I wouldn't put it past him. But are you sure that he would actually kill Glinda the Good, the ultimate icon?" I inquired, and at this she sniffed again, loudly and sadly. I almost felt like crying myself, but that would be completely stupid, as stupid as Liir's crush on that farm girl. Crying solves nothing. She pulled back a part of her long-sleeved dress and I gasped. On her arm there were large bruises in random spots on her arms and back. I didn't think the Wizard capable of things like this towards Glinda. I was a different case. The sight made my anger rise, and I had to work to keep it from seeping out.

"He did this?" I asked, before I could bite it back. Of _course _he did! Why would she mention him otherwise? I sounded like the naive schoolgirl I once was. He was such a despot, not the saint the Ozians believe him to be. She nodded, and adjusted the dress so it hid the wounds, trying not to wince in front of me. It made me hurt to see her fallen so low from where she had been. I had thought at least one of us had done well, at least she had gotten her dreams. It appeared I had been wrong.

"You have to help me, Elphie. I'm not as powerful as you think everyone thinks I am, as you think I am, even though I have the vote of the people." She said, looking at me hopefully. I knew instantly that I had to help her. It was inevitable. I had planned on paying the Wizard a visit, anyway, so I would get two things done at once. If I was successful, for once in my life.

"Of course I will. It's time I pay the Wizard a lovely little visit." I cackled, despite myself, and clapped a hand over my mouth. Where had that come from? "What comes around goes around, you know." Glinda smiled and took my hand.

"Thank you, Elphie. I knew I could count on you." She said, and hugged me again. I assume she was feeling a bit too hug-happy today. When we finally broke apart, I stood up and took my broom from the floor.

"If you need my help, I'll be prowling around Emerald City. Don't come up to me in public though, or it'll ruin you completely." _Even more so than you are now_, I thought despite myself. "I'll try to visit you now and then, to make sure you don't get in any more trouble." I said, getting on the burnt stick and rising in the air. "Keep a low profile, and make sure the people you know think I was never here, or else they'll turn against you. Goodbye, Glinda." Glinda nodded to show she understood. I didn't. I had never understood what was so good about a goodbye.

Now I had another person to visit. _Wonderful_. If I went on like this, I would never get around to terrifying the daylights out of the ecstatic Ozians.


	3. Good Riddance

**A/N: This moves the plot forward a little. Please review, I need those, I do! I only have five. **_**Five! **_**That's right. A measly five. So, please, make me happy. Review. Review. Review.**

**Disclaimer: Do I look like Gregory to you? I didn't think so.**

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I decided to fly to the Palace as well, because storming through the streets while the giddy folk are celebrating my death is not a good idea, especially in broad daylight. It was appalling how many people had stopped working just to join the festivities, especially when there was so much to do. But they were carelessly frolicking about, discordantly chanting, "SHE'S DEAD!" and not knowing when to stop, even though it was getting extremely annoying. But that may have been because they were celebrating _my _death. If they were celebrating the Wizard's, I might have joined in. But I doubt that would ever happen.

The sickening green building, looming over all the others, came into view. I remembered all those times I had been there. The first time, I had been childishly hopeful, and gullible, too. Remembering that event brought any meal that I had eaten recently up from my stomach, so I was quite glad I hadn't eaten anything, as there hadn't been any time. There was never time to eat. But that was for the best. Somehow, I didn't think the excuse: "It's raining vomit!" would fool the people completely, no matter how sickeningly gullible they were.

The second time I had visited that palace of lies was just as memorable, but not in a send-a-cheery-postcard way. I'll never forget it. How horrible I had felt. What sickens me the most was that I was almost ready to give up and join the Wizard. I have to admit, I was sick and tired of putting up the best fight I could manage, and how I wished I could give it all up and give in and jump on the Wizard-worshiping bandwagon. But the sight of Dr. Dillamond without a voice, and without rights, had infuriated me greatly, and I couldn't keep it to myself. Every now and then I think, _"Why couldn't I keep it to myself?"_, but I know it was all for the best. I wouldn't have been able to last long there, even if I had joined.

After crash-landing on the emerald roof and hoping I had made a noticeable dent, I paced around, stomping on the ceiling tiles. One of them sounded differently, but I wasn't sure which. It was the trapdoor I had gone through to get to the Wizard that second time. I stomped and stomped, and stopped to listen. I had found the different one, and I kept hitting it with my boot to make sure. Unfortunately (or fortunately), it wasn't particularly stable, so with a shatter of glass, I fell down on the emerald floor. Why couldn't they have lush pillows instead of hard floor tiles? That would be original, and quite helpful.

I got up and looked around. Small wooden doors, big double doors, trapdoors, a service desk. Which one should I take? There was no one at the service desk, but even otherwise, I couldn't have marched up there and asked to see the Wizard. I wasn't supposed to be alive in the first place. The double doors reminded me of those I had entered when I first came to see him, so I headed for those. And thankfully, I was correct. I couldn't be bursting in on the wrong person. But he was there, big head and all.

"I am the Great and Terrible Oz! Who dares to disturb me?" He questioned with that fake superior voice of his, which I still couldn't believe I had been afraid of my first time here. Instantaneously, my fury escalated to the maximum (well, maybe not the _maximum_--that would have been scary). I remembered all that he had done, and what he had done to Glinda, who hadn't done anything whatsoever! She hadn't even been involved! I exploded.

"You're still at it, aren't you! Still parading around with that inflated head of yours, and manipulating _your_ people so they believe your every word! Well, I know better now! You can't fool me anymore!" I yelled at him furiously, forgetting myself. The Wizard's voice changed and he stepped out from behind the head, a little man almost half my height, his eyes wide with disbelief and--hopefully--fear. I was glad that I had frightened him, and I opened my mouth to yell some more when he spoke.

"E-Elphaba? B-But you're. . .you're supposed to be dead! The girl. . . she came back with the shoes, and--how-"

"Fooled you again, didn't I?"

"W-Well, I--didn't-"

"Now, about Glinda." I interrupted, hurrying towards him, broom in hand in case he called a few guards in. I tried to appear as menacing as possible, and I could see that he was just about ready to wet himself. But he looked interested, too.

"Wh-what about her?"

"I've heard that you've been manipulating her like everyone else, and I won't let you do that!" I threatened, but the Wizard just laughed.

"You're going to try to stop me? The Great and Terrible--"

"You're not 'Great' _or_ 'Terrible'! The people just think you are, and that's what gives you power. They don't _know _what goes on behind the ugly iron head! _I _do, and look what you've made me into! A _Wicked Witch!_" I went on a miniature rant, something I had wanted to say to him for ages. "Well, what if you were to suddenly leave? Then they would have no one to worship, no 'Great and Terrible' ass to kiss!"

"And why would I choose to leave? I'm perfectly happy here."

"I didn't say you would _choose_ to leave." I retorted, pulling a page from my cloak I had ripped out from the Grimmerie. It was a spell for making people do what you wanted them to do, even if it was against their will. A manipulation spell. Time for the Wizard to get a taste of his own bitter medicine. Looking down at it, I began to chant. "Fan quod ego tatey, fan quod ego tatey, fan quod ego tatey, licen haec amay, fan quod ego tatey, fan quod ego tatey, fan quod ego tatey, licen haec amay, fan quod ego tatey, fan quod ego tatey, fan quod ego tatey, licen haec amay, fan quod ego tatey, licen haec amay, fan quod ego tatey, fan quod eg--" And just when I was about finished, he interrupted. I huffed.

"Wait! Elph-"

"_You know_, if I have to say it again, _it will make it stronger_. Do you want that? I could make you do something else. I could make you kill yourself. There's a thought I like."

"No, please, don't! Y-you don't have to."

"Oh, but you see, I do."

"N-no, you don't! I'll leave, just don't put any weird spells on me."

"How do I know you're not lying?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. It had to be too good to be true.

"Because. . .I'm . . ." He sighed. "I'm leaving now. J-j-just don't spell me, don't. _Please._" He said hurriedly, fear thick in his voice. I was satisfied. Finally, something had gone properly for me. One thing in my life. I watched as he walked out onto his balcony and looked down at the crowd. He spoke, his voice ringing clearly through the air. "Citizens of Oz! Now that the despotic Wicked Witch is dead, the land of Oz will finally reside in peace!" I snorted. Dead, my ass. "I leave Glinda the Good to rule over you, as I must take my leave. I have done what I _had to do_ here," he looked at me, "and now I will be leaving. Farewell, citizens of Oz." I heard a loud groan from the crowd. The Wizard walked off the balcony and across the large, emerald room, closing the doors behind him. I followed. I had to witness his departure; I couldn't trust him. I had grown so paranoid. But of course, that is what happens when you've been lied to and deceived all your life. It's only to be expected.

Down the steps, through the hall. Surprisingly, no one saw us. No one was there to see. I assumed they were all busy with celebrations. What surprised me the most was, when we carefully went outside, he actually got into his balloon. He didn't even try to make a run for it. He climbed in, cut the ropes, and rose up into the air, floating above the clouds. I think it was a trick of the light, or a bird, but I thought I could see him wave to me. I didn't wave back. But I felt a wave of relief wash over me.

Well, good riddance, I say. Good riddance.

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**A/N: You see that little purple button right there? Yeah? You do? Well, click it! Because I know that manipulation spell, too, _and I will use it!_**


	4. Not Alone

**A/N: Long chapter; be prepared. I seriously can't believe I wrote this much. 4 double-sided handwritten pages. Freaky coming from me. Anyway, I need reviewers' input on whether or not I should put Fiyero in the story. Send me messages with your ideas, please.**

**GAH! STUPID SPELL CHECK! How _dare _you say Ozians isn't a word!**

**Disclaimer: C'est ne pas a moi, mes ami. Pas même proche. (Is that how you say it? I think so.)**

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I couldn't believe this was finally happening. The Wizard had sailed away in his fluorescent hot-air balloon, hopefully never to return to Oz again. This may well be one of the happiest days of my life. I realized with an ironic half-laugh--almost a cackle, which startled me--that I would have thought, long ago, that my meeting with the Wizard had been the happiest moment of my life. It was funny how the tables had turned so abruptly. But at least something had gone right. 

The Ozians were positively devastated, of course. Some of them booed and others yelled, begging the Wizard to come back. It was a little pathetic, in my opinion. But soon the disappointed crowd dispersed, rejoicing once more at the Wicked Witch of the West's "death". As I watched the celebrations, a little stunned, I couldn't help thinking, _What now? _The Wizard was gone. My mind went blank for a moment, but then a familiar, bubbly figure popped into my head.

Glinda! Of course. How could I have forgotten? Deciding there would be time to join the celebrations much later, I got on my broom, getting a few ashes on my cloak in the process. This made me wonder, however briefly, where Dorothy was now. Where could she possibly live except in Oz? But maybe there were other Worlds out there, Worlds that didn't know me as a tyrant, a Wicked Witch. As this thought entered my brain and was registered as ridiculous, I scoffed. With my green skin, no one was going to accept me, in this world or any other. I had been destined for being treated like a pariah from birth. That was the blatantly obvious truth. I tore myself from my depressing train of thought and swooped above the Ozians on my broomstick; I was a little surprised I wasn't seen, but they were _still _caught up in their celebrations. Just my luck.

I soon reached Glinda's residence, which looked a little quiet. Hoping nothing out of the ordinary had happened, I carefully turned the emerald doorknob and entered, looking around me warily. I ventured a guess that anyone other than Glinda who say me would have a heart attack. Which wouldn't be _too _bad, but I didn't need all of Oz finding out I was alive just yet. But everything in the mansion was as it had been before, and no one seemed to be there; I hoped Glinda was. I breathed a quiet sigh of relief, although the quiet part of it wasn't necessary. I could start whooping and dancing (though I doubted I would) and no one but Glinda (hopefully) would hear. These walls were _that _thick and empty. Now, to find the bubbly (formerly) blonde.

First I cautiously searched in the first room I saw, which turned out to be a bright green kitchen that seemed to mock me. No one there. Looking for her was harder this time, as there were no hysterical sobs to guide me. It occurred to me that she might not be here. My hear rate sped up. If she had opened up her big mouth and told someone, we could both get killed! I marched down the hallway and soon I saw a gleaming green door wide open, and followed the emerald light. Sure enough, there she was, staring solemnly at her dress with red eyes. I couldn't help being a little that something _else _was wrong. Nevertheless, I opened the door a bit wider and she looked up, smiling a little awkwardly.

"Oh, Elphie, what happened? I've been worried sick! I heard yelling, did they-" She started talking in a high pitch. I could tell she was going to throw question after question at me in a high-pitched rant, so I decided to stop her. I knew exactly what she was going to say, anyway.

"See me? Not a chance," I said, collapsing into a chair near her. "They were too busy celebrating my melting. Anyway, the Wizard's gone-"

"What! Really, El-"

"-so I can continue in peace. Hopefully." I looked at her seriously. "Glinda, I need to know where Morrible lives." I was sure I needed to do this, but I had to do some research before I went doing in the government, feeble as it was. Glinda seemed a little taken aback.

"Oh, but Elphie, she's an old frail thing now, hardly. . ." She began, but faltered at the look I gave her. "Are you sure?" She couldn't help adding feebly.

"Of _course _I'm sure, Glinda!" I said, somewhat fiercely. Only one piece of the puzzle was mine, no matter how big. Morrible was the second obstruction to the Animals'--and Oz's--freedom. And no matter how old she was, I was going to stop her from wreaking her kind of havoc on Oz. "I have to finish the job I failed to do so long ago. I lost...everything then." My voice grew quieter and quieter and I seemed to be talking to myself. But I could tell Glinda knew what--or who--I was on about. She grew, if possible, more solemn. Some time passed in quiet. Then she spoke, shattering the silence.

"You didn't lose me." She said, almost inaudibly, looking at me. I looked up at her sincere face, looking almost as shocked as when I had seen the bottle of Miracle Elix- gone from my apartment, after the. . .incident. It had never occurred to me that all along, I had had Glinda. I still did. This was so unexpected and touching that I grabbed her in a hug, surprising myself with this sudden display of affection.

"Thank you, Glinda." I muttered. We stood like that for a moment, and then I pulled away. There was work to be done, and a lot of it. There would have to be plans, locations. . .I almost smiled as my old Resistance diagrams came swimming back into my brain. _The game is not over yet. At least not for me. _"Come on, Glinda, you've got to help me. I need her location." I said, turning to her.

"No, Elphie." She said, I was ready to argue when she put up a hand. "First let's go into the living room, and I'll give you some tea and biscuits. The servants are all out celebrating, you see."

"Oh, but Glinda, I really-" But at the pleading look she gave me I had to agree. It didn't sound _too _horrible to me, anyway. All we were doing was going to a more comfortable area to have some refreshments. I needed _some _food to think. My stomach growled in agreement. But I still couldn't help the tingle of anticipation. I was going to be _doing _something again.

_No, _I thought. We _are going to be doing something. _Because unlike in my childhood, when I played alone, or in the Resistance, when my assignments were my own, or after Fiyero died, and I was all alone once more, I had someone with me. I was not alone.

And it felt good. I couldn't help smiling as I walked into the living room after Glinda, already feeling this plan would be a success. When I made it. _We _made it. _I see this "not alone" thing will take some getting use to._

* * *

Later on in the evening, when our stomach were full of biscuits and blueberry tea, Glinda and I went to work. It was decided that I would do the actual killing, because if we were caught, Glinda the Good could not be seen murdering the Wizard's former Press Secretary. Or anyone, for that matter. So she would help me with the work behind the scenes. And there was a lot more to do that we thought. But years working in the Resistance had taught me that you couldn't storm up to someone and murder them. It was a delicate, planned procedure. There were concealment spells involved, of course, especially with the theme of the Ozians' current celebrations. This was something I had trouble explaining to Glinda.

"But_-hic-_I don't_-hic-_understand." She said _again_, hiccuping because of what I thought was buckets of tea she had drunk earlier. "Why can't you_-hic-_just fly there and_-hic-_zap her, or something? Don't you_-hic-_have that book? Or_-hic-_you could even do it_-hic-_from here!" I had a strong urge to scream (she had said she didn't understand at least twice in the last minute), but I fought it back.

"_No, _Glinda." I said firmly. I was _going _to satisfy the curiosity bursting out of her and explain, but I didn't get a chance to. Before you could say Sweet Oz, she was talking again.

"But I don't underst-"

"Yes! You have made that point _very _clear, thanks! But if you would _just let me explain_, maybe. . ." I trailed off when I saw her cowering slightly, and immediately felt bad for yelling at her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have. . .blown up. On you. Sorry." I apologized, and Lurline knows how painful it was for me. I don't like apologizing, but she _was _my best--and only--friend. She nodded, hiccuping and sniffling a little pathetically. I began to explain as calmly as I could.

"I can't go up to her and kill her, because I would probably be captured by the Gale Force and _burned at the stake_." I let these words sink in, making her shudder in horror. "I don't know what kind of protection Morrible has. For all we know, she has Lurline herself guarding her place. And as for using the Grimmerie from here. . .well, I could easily kill another innocent old woman by mistake. I'm not going to kill an Innocent." I said, using the term we had employed in the Resistance, where Innocent were not to be harmed, if we could help it.

"Oh, well okay Elphie, I get it now." Glinda said, a little hesitantly. We continued working in silence for a while.

About an hour or two later, I woke up on the couch, under a thick blanket. It seemed I had dozed off and Glinda had covered me. I smiled at her thoughtfulness. Looking around, I saw her asleep on another couch, snoring a little. I was going to continue working, but decided to sleep. It was dark anyway, and I was tired. I lay down and stared at the ceiling for a little.

I soon drifted off once again, and I dreamt of him again, his blue diamonds imprinting a permanent pattern in my scarred memories. They wouldn't leave me alone.

* * *

**A/N: Click the little purple button, and how happy Miss Elphie will be! Do it. _Now. _**


	5. Late Night Debates

**A/N: Ok, long chapter ahead again. This doesn't really move the plot forward much, but I felt they should spent time together. Please review, guys! I also need to know who wants me to add in Fiyero, because I've only gotten ONE PERSON saying they want me to do it. Actually, that's the only person who said anything. So review, or I'll . . . do something. It'll be bad.**

**Damned computer, HOW DARE YOU SAY GILIKINESE ISN'T A WORD! Ahem...yes. **

**Disclaimer: C'est ne pas a moi.**

* * *

After much toil--and blueberry tea, on Glinda's part, among other sickeningly sweet beverages--the plan was finally complete, and it would be done tomorrow in the early afternoon, when no one would suspect a crime to occur, let alone for the deceased Wicked Witch to appear out of seemingly nowhere. I had found the required concealment spell in the Grimmerie, which would (hopefully) change my skin to a normal colour, and my eyes as well, though I wasn't sure how those would change. I would look like a completely different person, but only for a limited amount of time; which was why it was so crucial that everything went according to plan, and that I acted as quickly as possible. I had wondered briefly if I would be able to do it, to kill someone, as I never had. But this wasn't just _someone_, and I assured myself that my hatred for the woman would help me with the task soon to be at hand. I couldn't fail a second time, I just couldn't. 

It was the evening before the plan was to be carried out; I had curled up on one of the fancy Gilikinese couches in the parlor, my nose in a book as per usual. I felt I had a right to relax (for once in Lurline knows how long) and prepare myself for the upcoming events. Glinda, who had become much more pleasant with the Wizard's departure (and, to my relief, acted less like G_a_linda and more like Glinda), was bustling about the kitchen like a real housewife, apparently cooking something. It had surprised me that she was capable of anything in the kitchen that involved the oven (although I hadn't voiced this, wisely), but as my domestic abilities ended at boiling eggs, I didn't offer my assistance (no one had taught me and I wasn't about to learn now), which Glinda seemed perfectly fine with. I was relieved at this, of course; I also felt proud of my friend, who had grown so much and gained so much independence since I had last seen her. With these thoughts swimming in my head, I returned to my book, feeling peaceful and at ease for the first time in too long.

Some time later, when it was considerably darker outside, Glinda came into the parlor (in a frilly apron, I noted) with a pot of tea and a tray of yellow something-or-others, looking extremely proud of herself. She put the teapot and tray on the coffee table without a word, went back to the kitchen and returned with two china teacups that looked far too exquisite to drink out of. She poured me a cup of tea and gave me one of the yellow somethings, which turned out to be lemon squares. I looked at them with slight hesitation, a habit of mine when it came to sweet foods, prompting Glinda to encourage me. (I also asked what kind of tea it was, at which Glinda burst into giggles and told me it was green tea, at which I threw a pillow at her.)

"Come on, Elphie, try one! They're just lemon squares." She said, looking at me expectantly. When that failed to encourage me, she tried again, evidently determined to succeed in shoving sugary foods down my throat. "Please! They're not poisoned or anything." She continued nagging me for what seemed like half an eternity when I finally gave in. Picking up the lemon square I had refused, I gingerly took a bite, bracing myself for an overwhelming sugar attack on my poor, helpless taste buds (I had never liked sugary sweets much); I soon realized that I really should have had more faith in Glinda's cooking skills. For as soon as I took that bite, I felt a considerable contrast between yesterday's blueberry tea, with five lumps of sugar, and Glinda's lemon squares; they were wonderful, so different from any of the food at Shiz, which I had--wisely--consumed only once, and even then I had vomited. It was even better than my old Nanny's cooking had been, and that had been the best food I had ever tasted (although, to be fair, I hadn't exactly had gourmet cuisine, and I didn't eat much). I looked up at Glinda, who was, once again, watching me intently.

"Wow, Glinda, that's--" I said, lost for words--not a common occurrence. "That's--wow. It's good." Glinda beamed, sitting down on the couch across from me.

"Thanks. I'm glad you like them." She said, adjusting her flowing skirts so they wouldn't wrinkle; meanwhile, I polished off a cup of tea and another lemon square hungrily, only then becoming aware that I was quite famished. (At this I remembered an old saying of my Nanny's at my protests that I wasn't hungry: _"Your appetite comes during mealtime, dearie."_ She had said, looking at me reproachfully. I had never given in, but eventually, I had gotten so hungry that I was caught sneaking the leftovers from the kitchen.) "So, how's your life been? What have you been doing?" When Glinda said this, I was grateful that I no longer had any food in my mouth, for I surely would have choked on it. I swallowed, hard, pondering what I should say. I decided I wasn't ready to tell her everything; I would give her a brief summary. But what part of those years to summarize . . . As I thought about this, I became aware that Glinda was watching me. Talk about awkward.

"It was--I . . . the usual. Hiding." I said, elaborating carefully. "Smuggling Animals, helping them escape." _Attempting and failing at murder._

"Well, that's not half of what the news said!" Glinda looked indignant, and a little shocked. I nodded.

"Propaganda has a way of spreading." i said, somewhat grimly, recalling with anger the rumor that the 'mutilation' of those monkeys had been entirely my doing. I had been called a monstrosity for being led into a trap; if anyone was a monstrosity it was Morrible, with her gaudy robes and her overdone make-up. I half-smiled to myself wickedly; the mental picture was a funny sight. But I shoved the monkeys still swirling through my thoughts aside; _what's done is done_. "The Wizard's doing, no doubt about it." Glinda shuddered slightly at the name.

"Oh, I'm so glad he's gone," she said, "I can't believe you managed to convince him so easily." I had told her that day's events once I had come back. For a while, I hadn't been able to believe it, either. It had seemed _too _easy for me, nothing ever happened as simply in my life. There had to be a catch. But as the days passed and no one came pounding on the door, ready to drag me off to Southstairs again, I realized that something _had _finally gone well for me, for once in my life. At least the Wizard had been honest to me about something. I soon realized my excessive thinking had caused yet another gap in the conversation. I apologized briefly for my sudden silence and replied.

"Believe me, I'm glad as well. Of course, the Wizard's absence doesn't mean some other psychopath won't try making his own sick government. Or hers. That's why I--we," I corrected myself quickly, "Have got to make sure Morrible doesn't try to reinstate the government the Wizard had established. I didn't work for all those years to finally succeed and then have it all start all over again."

"You're right about that, Elphie, but you're being a little pessimistic," Glinda pointed out looking at me a little disapprovingly, which fired me up a little more than I should have been because of it. Being me, I didn't want to admit it, but it my heart of hearts, I knew she was right. Of course, on the surface, I was fuming.

"No, I'm being _real_istic, Glinda!" I said, almost knocking over her tea in my raging. "You haven't seen what I've seen, you don't know what goes on! Oz is not as happy as it seems on the surface, even _with _the Wizard's departure! Animals are _still _being oppressed in secret by sadistic idiots, because the Animal hate has been ingrained so deep into their brains they can't get it out!" I realized I was up, pacing back and forth and ranting in an uncontrollable rage, but I couldn't stop myself. "Dr. Dillamond's murder was _nothing_, it was _rainbows_ compared to what else goes on, it's--it's . . . oh, it's horrible, Glinda, it's horrible. I collapsed onto the couch, spent, and looked at Glinda, who had been watching me seriously and, to my slight surprise, with no hint of fear whatsoever. After a while of silence, me lying on the couch, her staring seriously at a far-off something-or-other, she spoke boldly.

"I can make a law against Animal oppression, Elphie." I could tell she was trying to help, and I took that into considering; I appreciated it a lot, underneath my fuming.

"Thank you, Glinda, that's--that'll be helpful." I said, recalling my training in the Resistance to control my anger; all futile, of course. However, as thankful as I was, I couldn't help adding, "But there will always be people who have no regard for laws they're against"--me, for instance--"and who _will _continue doing as they please. Your new law will help, of course, thank you for that."

"You're welcome." Glinda said, half on reflex, half out of a lack of anything else to say. She opened her mouth to say something else and closed it again, looking a little like a fish. _Or a Fish_, I thought, berating myself for such thinking. It scared me a little that Animal oppression and discrimination snuck into everyone's mouths and minds, a cleverly hidden parasite.

I looked around me; Glinda had left, getting the hint that I needed to be alone, to think, which I silently thanked her for. I was always thinking. Sometimes too much. It seemed that my restless mind always had to be occupied with something. No one at Shiz had understood my ponderings and thought me odd (well, more odd than usual) for ranting about what they called "boring, political things". I had never minded them, but at times I had wished someone else at Shiz had cared as much as I did, that someone understood what was happening to the Animals. Of course, almost none of my wishes had ever come true, so their ignorance was expected.

As thoughts swirled in my head, pulling me into a world of own, I realized that I was being overcome by drowsiness. I adjusted myself to a more comfortable position and surrendered to a dreamless sleep (as always), my last thought being that I had made a habit of falling asleep on the couch.


End file.
